The Artist
by jadedlilgirl
Summary: Michiru is in love but not with an actual human being.


**I have a writer's block and I have troubles with updating "some" stories. So I needed to get a kick out of something. During my World Literature class, eons ago, we tackled Greek Mythology. So here we go, Not quite sure if I should leave this as a one shot fic or give it a few more chapters but anyways, without further ado...**

**DISCLAIMER: BSSM and Its characters belong to the amazing Naoko Takeuchi.**

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Another successful exhibit. Some works she created are barely even masterpieces but since her name is attached to it, it might as well be good as gold. She knows if she reveals what ails her, people would only judge her as another rich spoiled girl who is not contented with the blessed life she leads. Oh, but she is neither compelled nor thankful that she is nothing but a renowned violinist and artist. Rich, beautiful, powerful... lonely. Is it a woman's curse to be idealistic about love? About romance? She sighed. She made sure all her paintings and sculptures went to certain charities and museums. Except for one. This one will be transported back to her house. Why exactly? Because she was in love with it. The Galatea to her Pygmalion.

Once she reached her house, she immediately chose to wear something more comfortable, wearing her mauve negligee with lace hems and a black satin robe. Proceeding to her kitchen, an empty glass in one hand, a bottle of Cienna on the other she moved to her next destination- her studio. Pushing the double doors open with her elbows she wallked in to gather enough sanity to forget about her creation. Only, she cannot. A feat she has tried to conquer over and over but only finds herself failing equally as over and over. Setting the glass on one of the tables, she hastily poured herself a generous amount of the alcoholic nectar. Running her fingers on the rim of the glass, contemplating her rationality or irrationality more so. She makes her way towards the sculpture and drags the white blanket that covers it. She took a step closer to her muse by standing on the platform the statue was placed on, wine contents gone from the glass, she traced the contours of her masterpiece's face, fingers caressing the facial structure. Such beauty. Short tousled hair, 'blonde', she added. Piercing deep set eyes, 'Blue... no, Green'. A defined patrician nose, a proud prominent jaw line and cheek bones, down to its sweet luscious lips- she immediately forgot about the glass and just allowed it to fall and end up in shattered pieces below her. Placing both hands on the inanimate sculpture's waist she places her warm lips on cold marble, imagining what it would feel like if it were real.

"God, I wish you were real... my Distant Queen of the Sky." She mentioned to no one in particular, "I am a lunatic."

She turned her gaze towards the windows, the scenery illuminated by the moonlight. Waves crashing towards the sand and rocks. She glanced at the moon, gigantic in its form tonight, as if to taunt her. She refocused on her masterpiece, tracing every curve of the statue. Androgynous. Yes, she thought it best, for her masterpiece to be guided by her ideals and tatse and of course preference. She created this beauty to suite herself more than anyone else. She had offers here and there for this particular work of art, but she refused. Which made it even more in demand. With a sigh she closed her eyes.

"I wish you were real... I will name you, Haruka." This time she giggled, she finally admitted to herself that she was in fact crazy. Like a man naming his car as an extension of his manhood, here she is, naming her Sculpture- the statue she fell in love with as a sign of her insanity. That is all the confirmation she needs. Across the vast dark skies, a star falls stealthily.

She inspected the area below her making sure she doesn't step on broken glass. Carefully trotting out of harm's way. She stepped back to admire the view, the most she could see of "Haruka" in her line of vision, she retreated to the couch she strategically placed in front of her art work days before this. She gazed and gazed for hours until her hopeless dreams and ideals lull her to sleep.

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Sunlight crept across the room, invading her senses as a tinge of yellow and red shine through her eyelids. The birds were now happily chirping the song of mornings. She wrinkled her nose out of habit and oh, the wine, must it give her a throbbing headache this early? She absent-mindedly rubbed her temples in frustration, frowning in the process and then she heard someone chuckle. A husky sound of chuckling...

'Chuckle?' She frowned deeper. Then there it was again, someone was clearly invading her privacy. The privacy of her own studio none the less! She made it clear years ago that no one is ever allowed to enter this special place. She opened her eyes in fury yet her expression quickly turned into shock. Green eyes! She was now staring into green, deep set eyes!

"Ohayo!" She spoke with a voice smooth like velvet. Michiru blinked again, she might still be dreaming. "I'm Haruka." This time, "the dream" extended its hand to Michiru. She gingerly shook it.

"This can't be happening." She whispered to herself, causing the former-statue-now-turned-human to frown.

"What can't?" It spoke again!

"Oh My God! Am I dead?! Are you dead?!" She looked at Haruka then back to the empty platform where the blonde should be standing on top of and then back to the green-eyed blonde again. She pinched herself hard- it hurt. So this must be real. She stood up from the Cleopatra couch and started circling the blonde like a shark taunting its prey. Flicking strands of blonde hair, examining the Grecian tunic dress, she chose for it... from back when it was still an object. Then an idea came to mind. She stood in front of Haruka, looking at bewildered green eyes. Grabbing the fabric that hid the taller woman's chest, she pulled more towards the left side and was surprised to see, one expose breast with pink nipples- SHE IS EITHER REAL OR SHE IS ACTUALLY CRAZIER THAN SHE THOUGHT!

"Michiru?" The blonde looked at her again, placing both hands on the Aqua haired artist's shoulders.

"Y-you know my name?" She couldn't believe it.

"Of course, Koibito." Without any other explanations she leaned down to kiss a pleasantly surprised Michiru.

'So this is what it feels like...' Finally, she accepts the unexplainable and shuts her eyes to enjoy this new sensation.

It doesn't matter wether she's sane or insane, she got to see her Queen and is now kissing it... or rather, her. More importantly, Haruka is very responsive.

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******Pygmalion and Galatea is my favourite. I know, what about other epic Adventures? I don't care. Lol. So there you have it? To One Shot or not to One Shot? That is the question! Please do leave a review because it feels mighty fine. Thanks for reading.**


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